Upping the Ante
by Mengsk
Summary: Dark Defender Darkwing Duck - is retired. Quackwerks Corporation runs security in St Canard. Number 1 fan and spirited daughter, Gosalyn, has not forgotten Darkwing's heroic deeds. Neither have villains who forever plot revenge. Parody of - you'll guess.
1. Prelude

Dedicated to a friend and a Mentor. Thank you for your ideas and guidence.

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

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Prelude to Boom Comics_ The Duck Knight Returns_

_Upping the Ant-e _

They first appeared on the kitchen windowsill. Squeezing through an impossibly small gap in the corner of the frame. Little black dots which may have been mistaken for spilt coffee specks or borer holes in the grain had they not been marching with a purpose. Even had someone been home they may have thought little of little creatures. Indifference at best, a can of bug spray at worst. Soon though, their increasing number would demand attention and action.

They entered the household. One by one. Two by two. Three by three.

Under the front door and in through the upstairs bedroom window.

Four by four. Five by five.

They gained entry through the plumbing. Crawling out of the kitchen sink and shower drain.

Twelve by twelve. Seventeen by seventeen.

A black caprice armoured swarm moved to secure key areas of the house. Every exit was surrounded with the door latches jammed. The alarms were disabled. The swarm chewed though the internal wiring of motion detectors and thermal devices. Bug spray was confiscated. Phones, mobile or corded, were lifted by light _feelers_. Potential weapons such as kitchen knives were removed from the equation. The fuses for various rooms were disabled.

Fifty-three by fifty three. Eighty-one by eight-one.

In the closet of the upstairs master bedroom they confiscated his uniform and favoured weaponry. It was coup for the army to secure these items early and deny him. However, the operation was not all sugar cubes. Master was uncomfortable with their inability to locate the primary target. He was not in the kitchen. He was not in the bedrooms. He was not in the laundry, the bathroom, the basement, the garage or any of the closets. He was not in the roof crawl space, or the under house space.

One-hundred and thirty-three by one hundred and thirty-three. Two-hundred eleven by two-hundred eleven.

With the premises secure the creatures formed parade ground ranks atop benches, shelving and tables. Several disabled the locking mechanism on the front door, ready for the master's entry.

A duck pushed the door open and strode inside. He may have arrived from Mars. Short. With ball antenna set on springy wires fastened to his head. Armed with a ray gun. He spoke with a high voice and lisp that was out of this world. Reminiscent of another fictional duck-like alien (and almost universally hated character) from a popular prequel science fiction series.

"Where is he my little ant friends. Where is Darkwing Ducky?"

The antenna affixed helmet he wore allowed his words to be interpreted by his army and his army's reply, inaudible by the Duck ear, to be interpreted by him.

"Not here? _Owh_!"

Master criminal and inventor, Lilliput, sighted a family picture of Drake Mallard, Gosalyn Mallard and Launchpad on the mantelpiece. He lashed out, smacking the frame with the butt of his ray gun. Its sudden escape from the mantel, the grasp of gravity, the soft crack of glass; he considered breaking more items.

"Months of agonising over revenge and he isn't even home. How ruude!"

He scuffed the carpet with the tip of his clown sized boots. Chagrin he never thought to watch the Darkwing's movements and assumed he would be home during the day.

"Well, what do we do now my insect army? Return later? Stay here in ambush?"

A clattering in the kitchen led him to the answer. He followed the sound to its source, both hands on the ray gun held out in front of him and ready. His army of ants forming up behind him.

In the kitchen an ill-disciplined brigade of his ants had begun to loot cupboards and the fridge looking for anything sweet to the taste.

"_D'ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh_! We're meant to be exacting revenge here! Not empting the fridge."

The ants counter-argued.

"Yes. I did promise you all the sugar you could ever want."

And the ants added….

Lilliput sighed. "Alright. I have decided we shall wait him out. Turn the power back on. I want to watch some TV." He shook his head, defeated. Sometimes the key to leading an army was to issue orders likely to be obeyed. To follow rather than command, least he would have to deal with mutiny. The ants would have as the ants demanded.

"Here." He took a container of Ice cream from them and placed it on the bench. Set the dial on his ray gun to 'enlarge'. A blue zap and there was enough melting triple chocolate fudge ice cream to feed an army of millions. Of ants.

Even Lilliput's mouth watered at the concept.

"Prison food was no five star restaurant, no siree. I suppose a snack break couldn't hurt. I want to fry up some real burgers."

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Author's Note: Sorry about the recent absense folks. Computer issues. Bad. Duck Knight and KPM2 remain on hold.


	2. The Ambush

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

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The front door to the Mallard household opened with a crash. Gosalyn Mallard, whose spirit was as fiery as her pony tailed red hair, was not accustomed to subtly even performing the most menial of tasks. She threw off her oppressive school pack and let it thud against the wall under the coat hangers.

"I'm telling you Honker, there's something fishy about our new science teacher. He may be just the link I need to prove my suspicion this girls academy dad enrolled me in is nothing more than a front for sinister forces!"

Gosalyn's best friend and neighbour, Honker Muddlefoot, trailed her. Closing the front door quietly, he hung his pack on the first available hook and removed his homework. His response to classic Gosalyn after school rant was to respond with an intermixed series of, "_hmm_," and, "_yeah_". When she began to pace in a circular pattern on the rug, a trait of her dad's, Honker made comfortable on the couch. Steadied his glasses upon his beak and began working on his homework the better to get it out of the way before Gosalyn pressed him to help with her own.

"He claims to be an expert in electrical current, botany, chemistry AND – _physics_," she uttered. "I think he's in league with the villain underworld. Maybe even the fearsome five."

"_Yeah_."

"This current state of enforced peace in St Canard won't last forever. The super villains of this world wait around every corner. With meticulous preparation they wait for their time to strike. Our constant vigilance is all that stands between society and total anarchy. Nothing must pass our gaze without scrutiny. Not the shadowy manoeuvring of the Quackwerks Corporation or the retreating of S.H.U.S.H. from sponsoring masked crusaders or the giant tub of ice cream and bottle of ginger beer and recently gnawed clean dinosaur sized ribs on the coffee table or the ray gun and funny antennae hat ominously sitting on the TV…."

Gosalyn's rant came to a standstill. She took in new notice of her surroundings, the junk food and strange gizmos. A photo frame which had rested on the mantel had been smashed. The family photo it housed, the first of Gosalyn, Drake and Launchpad united under the same roof, lay exposed on the carpet.

"_Dad_?" Gosalyn called, adding, "Honker, I think we're being robbed!" Clasping at his shoulder and speaking conspiratorially in his ear.

"_Hmm_."

"Honk? Honker?"

Sitting this close to her friend, embracing him, Gosalyn finally detected the leads running from his ears down to...

She unplugged the leads from the concealed I-Quack. Pop music of the Disney variety played on low volume through the speakers. "_Melt my heart like butter_."

"Hannah Alaska! Seriously, you like her?"

Honker cringed yet defended his secret crush. "She's not a bad singer. Or actress."

"Not a bad actress? Her over the top cartoon comic humour in a live action comes off as melodramatic and cheesy. No one is that egotistical in real life, with the pathetic catch phrases and the exaggerated poses."

Well, there was….

"Never mind. _Look_ around."

"This ice cream container appears to be approximately five times the mass of what the packaging claims," Honker observed, not taking the hint immediately. He shifted the glasses again before peering inside. "Seems to have attracted a number of ants."

The boy genius mind analysed this in addition to the other series of anomalies which had Gosalyn concerned. His conclusion, "Oh - maybe we should go over to my place instead."

"No, let's investigate! We've been here a while so they've probably already left. But if they haven't…." Pounding a fist into her palm illustrated her intent.

"Maybe you're dad came home early to work on a new gadget?," Honk theorised, standing up close and examining the odd pair of devices sitting atop the TV cabinet.

There was a flashing button on the family answering machine. Gosalyn pressed it.

_"You have reached the household of Drake Mallard, unassuming suburban resident of St Canard. A single parent humbling providing for his daughter. Member of the P.T.A. and the neighbourhood watch association…."_

_"Give it a rest Dad!"_

_"Leave a message._"

A beep sounded and the duck from the answer recording, Drake, began to record his message. Now he sounded far less upbeat. His ego had been humbled.

"Hey Gosalyn, honey. I hope you had a good day at school - and didn't hog-tie up any of your teachers. Anyway, I think we both could use a treat tonight so I'm taking you out for Hippo Burgers tonight. Elmo," the name was uttered with disdain, "incorrectly filed our UB-40 statement reports I've spend all afternoon searching for them. Can you believe they put me in the same cubicle as Sparky, a known…?"

"_What was that_?" a terribly malicious and furious voice drowned out Mallard.

"Hi Elmo," Mallard's tone was a great deal more respectful now. "I said, "Can you believe they put me in a Rubik's cube with sprinkles…. This one time. In college."

"Oh…. Well that makes perfect sense. I think that happened to me once."

"_Rii-ght_…. Gosalyn honey, be good. Ask Mrs Muddlefoot if Honker can come."

End message tone.

"No, I don't think it was Dad."

The question of the moment then was, as Honker asked, "Well, who do these belong to?"

…

"_D'ooh_! I can't believe allowed myself to be distracted," Lilliput grumbled when he realised he was not alone in the house. "I should have remembered the little kiddies."

As soon as he was capable he ran downstairs to reveal his revenge plot. "Surprise! Beware little duckys, for it is I. Lilliput!"

A dramatic entry which may have been more intimidating if he were not wearing Drake Mallard's red bathrobe, blue slippers and a pink shower cap.

"Surprise? We've been home for five minutes. What took you so long?"

"Why are you in Mr Mallard's bathrobe?" Honker added to Gosalyn's scorned commentary on the tardiness of the villain.

"My clothes are in the wash, alright? I was only paroled yesterday and they're all I own."

Gosalyn tired instantly of this lunatic. "Alright bucko, you don't know it but you picked the wrong house to break and do your laundry! You don't even know who lives here."

"Of course I know who lives here." Now it was Lilliput's turn to be derisive. Because he did know. The city would tremble. Officials would be rolled. S.H.U.S.H. would be humiliated. Families would be torn apart. A hero would be humbled because he did know. Anarchy in four words - Who. Is. "Darkwing Ducky. A germ leeching off the hardworking villains of St. Canard to sate his ego! Sowing disease in the night."

"You know Darkwing Duck?" Gosalyn whispered.

No. Not again. Not another one. Her Dad was still punishing himself after the last 'incident' and she was still straining against the changes it had wrought on their lives. Lilliput smirked smugly. His wide eyes making him appear crazier than he intended, and increasingly menacing (despite the bath robe). "I know the Darkwing's secret identity. Now, like penicillin for a flu bug, I will clean out the infection."

"You're certainly dressed for cleaning." Her world had been torn to rubble too many times in her short life, orphaned twice before the age of ten. Gosalyn needed to take care of this madman now, or somehow warn Darkwing, before he demolished the already cracked foundation of her life as Gosalyn Mallard. "Would happen to know an Amanda Pine?"

Take the offensive. Insult him. Search the room for a weapon or advantage.

"_Hey_! No fair, I already explained that. Don't think I'd forgotten you little girl who interfered with my triumph over Darkwing. Fly swats and fizzy drink won't save you this time. My ant army is a thousand times in number now. You seen Indiana Jones four? Where the henchmen are eaten by killer ants? Yeah. I can do that."

"Not without your fancy hat and ray gun."

His weapons! Lilliput's mind raced. Before taking a shower he had left them….

His and Gosalyn's stare flicked between each other and the items perched atop the T.V. set. One last time they locked glances. A moment of tense anticipation torn from the script of a Clint Eastwood western of plucky heroes and dastardly villains.

"Oh chees…," Lilliput began.

Each gunslinger went for the weapon.

….

They both knew it. Starting on the ground floor Gosalyn had the advantage. She would have to trip over and break both legs before she could be stopped. If she could just raise the weapon at her foe….

Lilliput would not concede defeat. Short and reminiscent of a Martian, he was no duck of action but glorious rage fed his resolve. The polished staircase banister presented options for regaining ground and never mind the friction burn.

Gosalyn reached the ray gun first yet the ray gun was not the villain's target. He landed squarely on the unsuspecting, unfortunate neighbour's kid. Gosalyn reached the gun and spun with it in her hands as Lilliput raised the perfect shield, twisting Honker's arm forcefully to insure compliance.

"Hold it!"

Gosalyn's demand was ignored. Lilliput advanced by pushing Honker forward before him.

"Let him go or I'll blast you!"

No villainous taunts reminding the hero they were too weak to dare. Lilliput had committed two classic mistakes this caper, he would not be baited into a distracting monologue. Gosalyn attempted to stall him with a warning shot, blasting Drake's favourite gold plated bust of Darkwing Duck with blue transparent energy. The bust contracted and disappeared, seemingly vaporised.

The understated threat and startling effect of the act half accomplished its objective. Lilliput did pause for three rapid heartbeats to re-evaluate the situation but his racing mind's conclusion called for immediate bold action. He shoved Honker into the line of fire and lunged for the weapon.


	3. Tiny Problem

Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.

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Honker's beak ploughed into the carpet. Having been knocked aside during the awesome struggle he lifted his gaze to observe who was winning. The wrestling figures of Gosalyn and Lilliput were blurred. The world beyond the tip of his beak lacked defined lines and he realised his glasses had been lost. Honk knew he would need to regain his sight if he were to be any help so began to search the immediate area by fingertip, snatching his hand back whenever he sensed his digits were about to be stood upon by the fierce competitors. He could hear their grunts and gasps of pain as they fought on, feisty Gosalyn refusing to concede defeat to her older, larger opponent. The grunts were punctuated by blue flashes and the crash of fragile objects knocked from their perches.

Feeling around for his specks, Honk found the texture of the carpet to be – different. It felt like rope. As if many strands of rope were bound together. His increasingly frantic search revealed a world very different in nature to the one he believed himself to be in. It was a jungle. And it could have been his faulty depth perception yet the table and TV cabinet appeared far taller than previous. Mountainous peaks under whose shadow he crouched.

Honker's anxiety was increasing. All but blind with his other senses telling him impossibilities. His best friend battling a super villain twice her age and size – the blue flashes indicative of the weapon they were wrestling for discharging. He had a uneasy feeling as to the purpose of the weapon. But wait – he had not heard a gasp or howl of pain for a several heartbeats now.

A compassionate voice and a soft hand offered alleviated his stress. "Here Honk. Give me your hand."

…

Gosalyn pulled Honker to his feet and continued hold his hand securely in her own. She knew without his glasses he would be severely disorientated and the world had changed dramatically in the short time since his sight had been lost.

"Where are we?"

"Um…," Gos considered her answer, "The carpet."

Honker tested tapped the ground with a foot, experimenting.

"Please tell me you enlarged the carpet."

"Alright. We enlarged the carpet. And - the rest of the house."

"My glasses?"

"We enlarged them too! Honk - if you could see what I can see."

The carpet was now an alien landscape. A plain of thick, unkempt wild grasses expanding for at least a mile to each of the four walls. More impressive was the sheer scale of ordinary objects such as a coffee table and couch. The TV set had transformed into the worlds ultimate jumbo vision theatre. The ceiling was as distant as the sky.

"This may be an ill-timed revelation but I think Lilliput has constructed a new shrink ray with which he plans to shrink your dad and we are now the size of ants."

Gosalyn agreed. "Pretty much."

"We have to warn your dad."

"Well... I don't see a giant crazed villain laughing manically about his inevitable victory and trying to step on us."

"Think he was shrunk too?"

"Maybe."

"What happened?"

…

_Gosalyn managed to retrieve Lilliput's weapon first but was quickly horrified to see Honker being held in an arm lock by the nefarious villain. Being used a shield. Lilliput was no imposing figure. Short and goofy in appearance, however, he was more than capable of overpowering the young book worm, Honker Muddlefoot. Gosalyn tried to intimidate him by blasting Drake's favourite Darkwing bust with the ray. Attempting a last ditch effort to recover his ray weapon the villain forcefully shoved Honk forward until the teens crashed together, smacking heads. No choice but to throw Honker off. Lilliput was already lunging. _

_Each refused to give up their grip on the weapon. Lilliput yanked, pushed against it, swung it around yet Gos held on doggedly. In turn she kicked and scratched her opponent. He put his palm against her face and tried to pry her off. She tore out feathers with her beak._

_The weapon went off, who knows how many times. Items around the room disappeared, even Honker! But Gos was too focused on her immediate danger to realise Honk was gone. Only the final flash broke her clasp on the weapon as the world rapidly became a taller place._

…

"This would be easy if the ray shrunk with you."

Gosalyn gazed at the full sized ray gun sitting in the wild grass of the carpet. It might have been a crashed space ship. It did look from outer space.

"Nope. It didn't."

"Then we have to contact your Dad."

"Good idea. I'll just call him at work. I know he gets in trouble when I call during work hours but this is an emergency and – _Honker_, the phone is the size of Mt Rushmore!"

Honk shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Then we better have another plan when he gets home."

…

Gos lead Honk by the hand as they made their way toward the coffee table. Honker believed it was their best option for writing Mr Mallard a message assuming they could scale the structure and reach the top side plateau. The height did not intimidate Gosalyn, she was certain she could scale the structure. Rock climbing was enjoyable pastime, if not among her usual sporting activities. Aiding Honker to the top was going to complicate her efforts.

"What is it?"

Gosalyn slowed to a cautious pace and Honk wanted to know why.

"Ice cream. A big glob of it. The container spilled during the struggle."

"We should go around."

"Honk, in your life how many opportunities will you have to climb a mountain of ice cream. If we don't we'll regret it the rest of our lives."

"How many opportunities will you have to be buried in an ice cream avalanche? It will be melted."

"_Eh, it's still better than prison pudding_."

Honker squeezed Gos' hand a little tighter. Lilliput. He was not directly visible, sitting in the wild carpet over his height next to the ice cream mountain. The stolen slippers and the lower edge of his dressing gown were strawberry flavoured.

Gosalyn moved forward cautiously. Few scant minutes ago this manic attempted to harm her and shrink her dad. She should leave him there. Condemn him to life ant size. It would be a fitting end. Yet she approached him. Why? He made no move to threaten the teens. Only he understood the technology needed to reverse their tiny problem. It was a hero's duty to save even the most wretched being. He was the only other soul they had. Take your pick of reasons.

"Try some ice cream. It's been a bad day. Ice cream helps."

"Still with the shrink plots, eh?"

"Every villain needs a theme."

"You came to our house for revenge. Why not bring a death ray?" Gosalyn chastised his poor life decisions.

"I've been out of jail a day! This prototype equipment was all I could retrieve at short notice."

"Do you think you can turn us back?"

"Yeah, well – yeah. The Shrink-O-Ray is still operational. All I'd have to do is change the setting to big, stand in front of it and depress the firing mechanism. We'd be back to our grown up selves!" Lilliput declared; scooping ice cream up with his hands, licking his finger clean, talking with his mouth full.

"Why haven't you tired already?"

"I need someone to pull the trigger while I stand in front of it."

"You can pull the trigger! We'll stand in front of it."

"You drive a hard bargain. You do, you do, you do! Okay."

Honker reached toward the fuzzy mass of red somewhere in front of him. When he located Gosalyn head by touch of her hair he leaned forward and warned, "what if he sets it to continuing shrinking?"

"I'll do a lot worse than give him a flu," she referred to Darkwing's short stint as a germ.

"We could reset the ray ourselves and rescue Lilliput later."

"A-ha! Well it seems I'm not entirely without options either, little ducklings."

"You're right Honker. This ice cream does look unstable. Maybe we should leave. Now."

Honk did not require the shadow of a large creature to fall across him or the appearance of blurred outline of black armoured predator atop of the ice cream hill to know they were in trouble. The return of Lilliput's confidence concerned him. Gosalyn being reasonable terrified him.

"We're not alone?"

Two more blurred creatures scaled the hill to look down upon them.

"The remnant of my ant army. I gathered an unstoppable force to overwhelm and consume Darkwing. But allowed them to take a break for a few hours when Darkwing was not home," Lilliput was clearly still irritated about the derailed timetable. "Most returned to their nests with the contents of the fridge when I released them from direct control. However, a number of scouts remain."

"I don't like how they're looking at us." Honker complained.

"You can't see."

"I can feel it. On the back of my neck," he assured the villain.

Lilliput was undeterred. "You have every right to be afraid, little duckling. I, however, fear nothing for these are my ants. My unconquerable minions. And they will not harm you unless_ I _command otherwise."

"Without your helmet, how can you be sure?" Honk asked.

"Do not be silly. I gave them everything! They would recognise their lord and master no matter what size he may be."

Confident, Lilliput called out to his ant minions.

"Ahoy my ant friends. Come down here and carry your master to – that's aggressive behaviour. Oh no, they're coming this way."

…

"Lord and Master, huh?"

"_Nyah-ah-ah! _Just a misunderstanding. Poor eyesight, they don't recognise me. Maybe if I got closer?"

Honker and Lilliput clutched their knees and huffed. More athletic than the pair of them Gosalyn was still energetic. She pointed back the way they had come. "We can go back for proper introductions if you want." She was rewarded with a glare.

"The scouts were defending their claim on the ice cream. More will arrive when they begin to shift it back to the nest. In future we should avoid sugar and sweets. Looks like _you_ missed your chance for a final meal."

"_We_ weren't complaining about a stitch and lagging behind the whole time we were running."

"Don't act cocky kid; you were fortunate there were only three. Ant's hunt in numbers. If they desired an annoying kiddie burger to feed their larvae it would not matter who was in the lead. They would run you down."

"At least by time they caught me they'd be using your wing as a toothpick. Maybe they'll be all full up by a certain podgy bird."

"You don't seem afraid. Have you never seen ant's swarm a Mantis?"

Honker advised them, "Maybe if we get to the ray we can be a less squish-able size when more arrive?"

An unspoken truce was arrived at. For how long was another matter.


	4. Not A Welcome Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

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"Clearly you're still criminally insane. How did you get out of jail?"

"Watch it girly."

"Or you'll…? What? Honk here could operate your ray. You need _us_."

Honker was less confident on the point. "Um – maybe. If damaged, finding replacement parts could be…."

"See! Now spill."

He clamped his teeth together, locking his jaw. He could retort but the girl may be correct. Or believe she was correct to which the consequences would be the same. Yet Lilliput reasoned he had no objection to answering the question, only the disrespect with which it had been asked. So he unclenched and sweetly sung his reply, "_Quackwerks_."

The obvious answer. It always came back to Quackwerks.

"They're emptying the prisons and employing the cons. Work 2 Reform scheme the public relations office calls it. Guaranty of a liveable wage, a nine to five job and an opportunity to mend ways. Compliance enforced by their army of security drones, of course," Lilliput assured them. He continued, "Quackwerks does not look kindly on abuses of their generosity. Under the contract they have with the city Quackwerks practically runs the justice system in the St Canard. Once you're in their clutches they own you. Mind. Body – Soul. Practically a villain working on every street corner now. Office, transport, travel, entertainment, public institutions like your hospitals and your schools…."

"_I knew it!" _Gosalyn declared her triumph to the world. Lilliput used his wing feathers to protect his ears drums from the little girl's outburst. Conspiracy theories involving super villains were her favourite talking point. So rapt she had been with the doings of Quackwerks she had edging closer and closer to Lilliput, unbeknowst to him, as he talked. Close enough to cause hearing damage.

"Are you done?" their villain compatriot sneered.

It was Honker who asked the obvious next question. "If you were paroled and given a job by Quackwerks, why come after Mr Mallard?"

"Spend my days in an office cubicle? Waste my genius intellect paper filing, subjected to a retelling of every short joke, lisp joke, red haired joke from high school – you know what I'm talking about!"

Gosalyn had to give him that.

"No, thank you. Give me the clean air, open space and untamed wilderness of the mini golf course. And with every other villain in town kowtowing to the company I could run the city underworld. Way underworld. With my shrink ray technology I would operate so far under the crimebot's scanners they'd think I was a golfer! So I returned to my park to begin my criminal empire, I did. Starting with my epic victory over the terror of the night!"

"How did you find us?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he menacingly teased. "Okay. You signed the register at miniature golf. Launchpad McQuack, 537 Avian Way."

He revealed his source in matter of fact manner. No hesitation. It was of no consequence to him.

"Launchpad," Gos sighed.

It was an innocent act. There had been no mission at the time. Simply a family outing as Father and Daughter Mallard; enjoying normal, everyday Mallard family events such foiling a bank robbery plot, befriending germs and playing mini-golf. Yet Drake was sure to counter there could be no innocent slip for the sidekick of a hero and use this lapse of judgement as further justification of why Launchpad could no longer be a part of this family. Further justification of why life as a masked crusader was, "too dangerous," for a father.

There could be no more 'incidents'. Not after Negaduck began to unravel the mystery behind the shadowy disguise.

"That's right kiddo. So don't even think about a double-triple-quadruple cross if you want what you know that I know that you don't want known that I know to be known!"

After being chased from the ice cream mountain the group avoided spilled sweets and their competing claimants. Thereby the remainder of their trek was uneventful. The dirt and dust mites, fluff and dead feather bits did inspire within Gosalyn new appreciation toward the humble vacuum cleaner. She resolved never to eat a dropped French-fry or candy piece again. And to rethink her policy on the cleaning of her room. No hurdle prevented them from reaching the weapon.

The argument over who should be enlarged first resurfaced. Gosalyn was adamant either Honker or herself would go first to in turn use the ray on the others. However the paranoid little girl was still mindful of the issue, "How do I know you won't sabotage us?"

Honker volunteered under the reasoning Lilliput would be reluctant to attempt a double cross, even a double-triple-quadruple cross, with the "spirited" one watching him. So after worked together to twist the dial to big, Honker stood in line of fire with Lilliput and Gosalyn pushed and heaving and grunting trying to depress the trigger.

"No, no, no! Push with legs! Your legs!"

"What if you stand on my shoulders?"

"I know. What if we construct a pulley system out of string?"

"Lilliput? Shut up," Gosalyn demanded. She squat on the ground and took a breather from the task. The trigger proving difficult to budge and it didn't help she had to stand on her toes and reach over her head to touch it. Lilliput was having the same issue.

"Hey! I the pulley system was a _good_ idea!"

Catching the general tone of their conversation, Honker called over, "_Why don't you go in to the wiring of the gun and hot-wire it_?"

"Because I don't want to damage it! Or be electro-coo-ted!"

Their debate over the next step could have gone on like this for several more acts were it not for the introduction of a new character, stage left.

A key was inserted in the front door and the doorknob turned. Into this Shrink-O-Ray mess stepped papa Mallard.

"Gosalyn," came his weary call. "Gosalyn, I'm - YAH!"

And quite a mess it was. He almost stepped _in_ it.

During the struggle for the Shrink-O-Ray the dining room table had been knocked causing a plate of Ice Cream and snack food to be cast around the room. A mug of hot chocolate had been allowed to soak into the carpet for near an hour now. Some plates had split. Various pieces of furniture were missing entirely.

_"GOSALYN!"_

But Gosalyn did not appear to explain or defend the state of his living room. Or the state of his kitchen now he saw it. The contents of the fridge and cupboards strewn about. Down in the carpet she was glad to have an excuse not to front up the way Drake was growling from the back of his throat like a rapid dog. His yell, one she was very acquitted with, sounded deep and as strong as a sonic boom when her size.

"Look at this mess!"

Drake slammed the front door and entered the kitchen, stepping over spilt liquids and slapping a small handful of work folders down on the breakfast table.

"Gosalyn!" he called again. No response. "That tiny terror turned this place into an upturned garbage turf! After all I put up with all day I have to come home and – hey! What happened to the computer?" He realised his old clunker of a machine used for typing memos in the corner was missing. Along with the entire desk.

"My speakers! My lamp! My bookcase!"

The room was indeed bare.

"_My statue_!" Referring to his gold plated statue of Darkwing Duck. Custom made. Among his most treasured and pampered items, he shinned it and guarded it as jealously as real gold. His ego driving him to display it for all guests to witness. The likeness of Darkwing Duck next to the look-a-like of Darkwing. Under the same roof as known associates of Darkwing.

"Gosalyn must have pawned half my living room!"

He gaze locked on to the Antenna Helmet Shrink-O-Ray.

...

"Yell! Yell to him!"

"Dad! Dad, we're down here."

"Wave."

Gosalyn Waved. Gosalyn jumped up and down like a crazy person.

"He's coming this way."

Honker already knew. His vision may have been impaired yet he could not have mistaken the massive figure of Mr Mallard. He could not have ignored the vibration of the floorboards under the carpet. His could not forget the chance of being stepped on.

"Guys...?"

"She even left her toys out. Huh, probably playing space invaders."

Lilliput yelled a warning. "He's going to take the ray!" His reacted to his revelation by lifting himself up onto the trigger and wrapping his legs around.

"What are you doing?"

"We need the ray!"

He was right. Drake reached down to pick up the Antenna helmet first.

"Honk! Grab on!"

"To what?" and he began to feel around for the ray tip somewhere in the vicinity in front of him. Gosalyn ran along the barrel of the weapon to reach him. Drake examined the strange Martian helmet, trying to place it. Drake Mallard proudly proclaimed he had never forgot a thing in his life no matter how obscure the detail, no matter how trivial the trivia, no matter how vague the reference. However, on occasion, he could use a hint. His recall abilities were not necessarily instant.

He had seen this helmet before, perhaps a year ago. He had not been the one to buy it for Gosalyn. Nor had he ever seen her wear it. So... perhaps it belonged to Honker and Gosalyn was the Martian hunter. He couldn't imagine Honker chasing Gosalyn down with a toy ray gun but he could certainly envision the opposite.

Satisfied with his deduction Drake picked up the Shrink-O-Ray by the butt. Gosalyn slid the last few centimetres of the barrel as it became vertical, gripped firmly the tip of the ray and scooped up Honk by the hand as he continued to feel his way forward, arms stretched out in front of him.

Drake held the helmet under his left arm and the butt of the Shrink-O-Ray in the right, each heavier than anticipated. He wanted a better, more centred grip on ray but did not want to juggle the helmet or put it down so instead he improved his grip by losing it completely. He heaved the ray and let go, allowing it to rise vertically and caught it again by the midsection.

Honk screamed as he was suddenly airborne. A firm grip on his hand the only safety net preventing a fatal drop. Gosalyn kept a firm grip on both him and the ray tip as they were lifted. Her strength was not enough. She lost her grip on the ray before she would ever lose her grip on her friend.

Lost to open space. Not to gravity. Not yet. Had Honker not been scared guano-less he might have explained how in physics an object does not suddenly lose velocity simply by disconnecting from the cause of acceleration. Like an unfortunate driver who does not wear their seat belt in a crash. The sudden stop of the vehicle does not mean whatever is not strapped down loses its velocity. And neither did the kids.

They continued to rise parallel to the ray and Gosalyn reached for it again. This time, because Drake had caught the ray and it had been stopped, she managed to grasp a point higher up the nozzle than previous. She wrapped legs around it and below her Honker instinctively did the same the moment he connected with a solid object. He did not stop screaming though. Not as Drake waved the ray to and fro in time to his natural walking rhythm. Right arm swinging to and fro in time with his opposite leg.

Drake supposed he should investigate the upstairs area for more evidence of Hurricane Gosalyn damage. There was always the chance she was home in her room having not heard his angry demands for her being plugged in to those music player thingy-ma-jigs. Her MP3 player. He hoped this was the case. He would get to yell at her while his rage still burned brightly, before he had a chance to cool down.

For Gosalyn, Honker and Lilliput this was the worst part of the ride. Hanging on while Drake bounded up the stairs. Not gently. It took everything they had to hold on. Arms and legs locked around the nozzle and trigger. A loss of grip now could be disastrous. There would be no lucky opportunity to regain hold.

At least the bedrooms remained in order, Drake noted. Or, in the case of Gosalyn's room, how she left it this morning. Honestly, downstairs was an improvement. He did not want to stray too far into the room so he set the ray and helmet down near the door and returned down stairs. Drake bitterly mumbled working at a desk with Elmo Sputterspark and having to play house maid at home.


	5. Happy Landings

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

* * *

Drake gave the neighbouring Muddlefoots' a call in the hope Binky had the children under her eye. No. The last she had seen of her son and his daughter she had given them permission to play at the Mallard house and remain there. Drake knew Honker could not be held responsible for the state of his living room and kitchen so withheld that information. The two parents were both in agreement, however, that a grounding was in order.

Drake was not free of anxiety, no parent would be. Walking in to a home torn apart and the children not present – if 'the incident' had taught him anything it was his family life was vulnerable. An experienced detective eye told him the spilt ice cream and drink may indicate a struggle. Someone, likely the children, had spent the afternoon clearing out his kitchen, watching TV, playing spacemen with toy rays guns and removing his furniture. Not the M.O. of any of his previous arch foes.

Maybe Quackerjack? He was an odd one.

Primarily the fact he came home to find the house in similar a state two to three times a week alleviated his fears. It was difficult relax with the spectre of 'the incident' constantly on his mind but even Drake could admit his parental fears boarded on paranoia. The crime rate in St Canard was non-existant since the introduction of the Quackwerks Crimebots. He would have to file a missing child report with the bots and allow them to bring Gosalyn and Honker home safe. With their scanners sweeping the skies to the cesspools there was not a concern they the pair would slip their sight and Drake could put his fears aside to work restoring order to his household.

He had not seen a kitchen emptied so fast since Launchpad moved out so maybe he had stopped in for a visit. He hoped he wasn't setting the bots on his friend. The only recourse was to sort it out if it happened.

The large splotches of strawberry ice cream on the carpet were his first priority after making the call to the bots. Who knows how long they had been given to stain. Already it was melted and was attracting any number of ants from outside. A sweet soup for the miniature creatures of the carpet. He wiped up much of it and left cleaning product to soak in and remove the stain. Removed dirty dishes and threw out the remains of an ant infested burger, rib bones and poured out now cold final drops of a hot chocolate. He didn't bother to wash the dishes now. Gosalyn could aid him in dispensing with the pile of plates, pots and mugs when she returned. He did straighten the cupboards and fridge drawers before retreating back to the living room.

The TV was still on. An afternoon drama/soap opera, Neighbours. Boy, Drake could tell them some stories about drama with the Neighbours. And girlfriends. And daughters. And sidekicks. He lived unwanted drama. No need to watch it unfold on telly. He dug his feathers down the back of the couch cushins looking for the remote and finding Gosalyn's I-pod instead. No, the remote he found under some magazines on the table. He surfed the channels to find children's programming, cooking shows, re-runs of hit series from last decade; all the usual pre-news hour brain melting garbage which helped soothe a day's work at the office. For the sake of being the most recognisable he settled on reruns of The Swanson's. Rebellious young Bert being enlisted to remodel the public image of his dim-witted father, Horner, with a campaign of aiding the elderly and spreading flower petals.

Drake left the channel surfing there but did not pay events on screen any mind. Melted ice cream had been infested by ants and thrown out. A waste of a ten litre tub of strawberry even if it had been reduced to the final corner. Pizza slices now gone to waste - another clue as to the teen's doings before disappearing, ordering the delivery of and consuming gratuitous amounts of junk food. Drake feared his just how it was paid for. Did Gosalyn pawn his furniture before or after a sugar induced frenzy? It was not just ice cream either and not all of it had been touched by them or the ant armies yet.

"Giant N&Ns. I thought they went out of production."

Oversized grapes plus an extreme apple cores. Excessively sized pizza delivery boxes. A ten litre cola cup. It was looking more and more as if Gosalyn had thrown a party in the mid-afternoon. She could have feed an army.

"To the father go the spoils." Drake dug in to the remains. Reclining on the couch and treating himself as all parents should be treated, like a Roman Emperor. Closing his eyes as biting the grapes in half, letting the juices run down his chin and throat. They were too big to eat any other way. The size of apples. He happened to re-open his eyes while stretching and what his eyes settled on gave his a wicked idea. It would be all Gosalyn's music of course but as embarrassed as he may be to listen to trashy pop tracks he was sure Gosalyn would be mortified when she came home to discover him dozing to the beat of her I-pod. Quacky Perry or Lady Goose-Goose or whatever the kids are in to. He slipped the headphones on and mashed buttons until a track played.

...

Meanwhile, upstairs...

Gosalyn, Lilliput and Honker watched Drake's activities from the top of the stairs (or just Gosalyn and Lilliput considering Honker being currently visually challenged).

"New plan. Or, return to old plan. We are not going to be able to operate the Shrink-O-Ray - couldn't you come up with a better name?"

"The Shrink-O-Matic?" Lilliput suggested. "The Ant-ilizer!"

Gosalyn silently groaned. "We aren't going to be able to operate the Shrink-O-Ray. Our best bet is getting Dad's attention."

"Unless you two have worked out a system of telepathy it sounds like a new and interesting way to be squished."

"It's not!" Gosalyn firmly stated. "Dad managed to contact us when he was shrunk."

"We mistook him for a bug. Several times," Honker reminded the group. "He was squished. Several times." This did not mean he was in total disagreement with Gosalyn's plan. "We contact him indirectly. We write him a message," was the conclusion of the boy genius.

"How?" Lilliput wanted to know.

"Ink. Flashing lights. Noise – Morse code. Anything."

A plan formed in Gosalyn's mind. The worst mind for a plan to form in. "We get on the coffee table. We write a message out of your," she referred to Lilliput, "leftovers."

"Um... That's not really what I had in mind...," but Lilliput cut Honker off.

"Just how will you be reaching the coffee table from here?"

"How are _we_?" Gos underlined the term we for Lilliput's benefit. "How are _we_ reaching the coffee table?"

...

"I am not getting on that. I won't, I won't, I won't."

Lilliput stomped his right foot in time to his repetition to exaggerate his refusal.

"What? What is it?" Honker asked anxiously. He had yet to be informed of Gosalyn's plan. That it was Gosalyn's plan was reason enough to be suspicious. Of course being Lilliput's plan would have been small comfort.

"Don't be such a baby. Is Honker worried?"

"Um... I am actually."

"You're not belly flopped on the ground pounding you're fists and having a tantrum."

"... won't, I won't, I won't, I won't..."

"Give me time. You haven't told me what it is yet."

What it was – was a paper dart. Torn from an exercise book left discarded on the floor of her room. Rather than say so Gosalyn occupied herself smoothing over the final folds to her construction. She preferred to keep Honk in suspense and not reveal the details of her plan until it was complete. At which point it would be too late for Honk to raise an objection and back out. Perhaps she would not reveal the nature of her plan until he was comfortably strapped in with the nose hanging over the ledge. Whichever the case his persistent questioning would be quietly put off until the last fold was done.

She did have something special in mind for this paper dart. They were going to fly it upside-down – like a glider. All she lacked was a material of which to tie their party of three to the undercarriage.

"Shut up. Stop whining," Gos ordered her more annoying of her two companions. The one she had no issue with hurting his feelings. "Find something we can use to attach ourselves to the underside."

"Like what?"

"String? Sellotype? I don't know, you're the mad scientist."

"Mini-Golf - course - manager," he shot back but complied. He did decide to try his luck with the master bedroom. Drake Mallard was so much less of a slob than his daughter.

Honker hated to ask. He dreaded the answer. "What is it we're attaching ourselves to the underside of?"

...

Gos had long since completed the craft before Lilliput returned and had switched her attention toward failing to convince Honker this plot would work. The boy had worked out her intentions via his sense of touch, running his feathers along the blurred image of Gosalyn's creation. He had felt fur. And fibres. It had a grain to it like wood except it was malleable. It felt like..., like..., like an old towel stiffened by too much starch or, no, like paper. How paper would feel to an ant, rough and furry and still malleable but more akin to cardboard. It was paper. And if this was paper then this was, in fact...

"Oh no. Oh, %#$ no! I won't, I won't, I won't."

Just when Gosalyn was inclined to believe they had been deserted by their criminal companion Lilliput returned carrying with him a square of material thrice his current size.

"A postage stamp?"

"Exactly." No matter the feisty little girl's derisive tone, Lilliput was still pleased with his inventiveness. He had salvaged the stamp from a discarded brown envelope. Dropped in a corner with bills and junk mail. Likely work related. This would work perfectly.

"And what do you propose to do?"

"Start licking."

...

Honk stood flat against the upright wing of Gosalyn's glider, allowing his torn shred of postage stamp of a harness dry. He waited until he perceived the blurs were turned away before attempting to manoeuvre free of the harness but escape was thwarted. A pair of gentle yet firm hands took him by the shoulders.

"Stop struggling Honk. You don't want the glue to fail in mid-air."

Gos turned to her other problem, who should be attaching himself to the other wing.

"All aboard, Lilliput."

Lilliput did not climb aboard. He crossed his arms across his chest and huffed. "I believe I have made my position quite clear."

"So you're going to stay here alone and wait for the ants to find you?" Gos did not wait for an answer. She used the licked and sticky tear of stamp to glue herself in the centre of the craft, between the two boys.

She reached for Honk's hand. "Hey," she said, taking his hand in her own and guiding it above his head to a metal bar Honk had not known was there. "I tore these staples out of a homework book. Thought to use them as hand rails. Should give us something to hold on to."

"Oh. Oh! OH! Alright!" Fighting every survival instinct Lilliput stuck himself in too.

It took some manoeuvring. Being dead centre of the craft the nose was top-heavy and the tail dragged along the rug. And still too soon they were in flight position. Too soon at least as far as the boys were concerned. Standing over the ledge of fate looking down. Honk didn't need glasses; his imagination was more than capable. Lilliput suppressed yelping and even Gosalyn finally began to feel a touch of anxiety. Just a touch. Enough to get her adrenaline pumping and allow her excitement to build.

"The target is the coffee table. Magazines are the runway."

Lilliput gave this some thought. "Couch would be softer."

"Alright. The couch then."

"What about your dad?"

"He looks to have gained a few pounds. He might be softer too."

Choosing not to respond to the jab, Gosalyn gave the command, "step out on three."

"1."

"2."

A pressing thought occured to Lilliput.

"3!"

"How do we steer this thing any- waaaaaayyyyyyyyy...?"


	6. A Failure To Communicate

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

* * *

"_Hold on_!" Gosalyn shrieked, unknowing if her words could be heard above the rush of air. "_Just hold on Honker_!"

Their capacity to steer was non-existent. The glider would fall where it willed. When they walking it off the edge the nose dipped down, causing the glider to fall into a vertical drop. Not flying, plummeting for the first second. Maybe two. Maybe too many.

Those were long seconds for the flight crew. As Gosalyn feared they would never level out their combined weight, distributed across the central line of the craft, pulled the nose up and the tail down. Once level, the wings caught the air and they soured.

"_Keen Gear_, _it's working_!"

Buzz Lightyear would have called it falling with style. Were there any style to their decent. Gosalyn was satisfied with _not pancaked_.

"_Wall_! _There's a wall!_"

"_Everyone lean left_!" Being unable to _see_ the wall does not prevent Honker to divining the danger Lilliput was trying to get across. He called for them all to lean in the same direction. It was all they could do!

No time to argue. The glider covered the length of the living room in short order and they were at risk at impacting the far wall. The others did as Honker ordered. The weight the glider carried shifted. The left wing dipped – too far. The glider began to spiral and the three could not correct it. They experienced a fraction of the G-forces a fly is subject to but more than duck was meant to handle. The world fades to black as blood was forced from their brains to their boots.

_Knock. Knock. Bash_. Drake's front door was forced from its hinges. A Quackwerks Crimebot is an attention grabber at the best of times. Even with Gosalyn's music blasting in his ears and a tub of popcorn on his bellow Drake could hardly miss the entrance of a robotic monstrosity.

The resulting draft broke the glider's spiral and sent it careening into the giant N&N bowl.

Drake dusted tasty popcorn snacks from his top. "_What is going on here?_! Sir…." Outraged as he was, every St Canard citizen knew to be on their guard when a Crimebot came knocking. Their programming demanded respect and they had no moral quims about enforcing respect.

"Mr Drake Mallard. 537 Avian Way. Reported missing person, Gosalyn Mallard?"

The bot's snaking mechanical arm raised a struggling and frightened bear cub in its claws. Younger than Gosalyn. The little bear cub held her dolly tightly.

"Are you kidding me? This child is a bear!_ Gosalyn's a duck_! Sir…." Citizens who dealt with the Crimebots regularly learned where they could push the boundaries. Either they had no understanding of tone of voice or would allow a grumpy parents attitude to slide if referred as a superior.

"Told you," the bear dared to say.

"Silence tagger. You still face charges of defacing public pavement with chalk," the bot told the girl. "Apologies citizen."

"Hey!" Drake called after the bot as it flew off. "_Let her go_! Sir…."

Too late. The bots receptors probably could not even hear him at this range as it rocketed into the sky. Drake was left to pick up and replace his door. He could reattach the hinges later. Now he leaned it against the frame and returned to lounging on the sofa. "If only someone could do something about those malfunctioning, menacing metalheads."

Drake sighed. There was nothing anyone could do. Quackwerks was the law in this city. Legal, authorised law enforcement. Effective, respected and, above all, feared. Terrors whom did not care what time of the day it was.

…

"Any landing you can walk away from," Gosalyn insisted.

"Launchpad would be proud. Did we land on a rainbow?" All Honker cold see before his eyes were varied colours. "I don't remember even Launchpad accomplishing that."

Lilliput complained while peeling back the postage stamp brace which kept them tied to the dart. "Never again. Never. You two midgets are crazy. _Crazy_! I'm in charge. I'm the oldest. I'm the smartest…."

Who was he calling midget? Age eleven and she was almost his height. Gosalyn ventured, "You're the villain who got us into this mess…."

"Maybe if you had stood still and been ant-alysed none of this would have happened! _Huh? Huh? Huh_?"

"I can't wait 'til we're normal size and Darkwing beats the snot out of you."

"_Oh, ho-ho_! Darkwing doesn't look in shape to beat up anyone anymore. He's been sitting on his tosh while I've been pumping my guns in prison. 'Sides,_ you_ are punishment enough!"

Honk interrupted with his wisdom. "Guys, I think we should be moving now."

"Honk's right. We call finish this later. We're close now. We're almost home."

"You are home…?" Lilliput challenged her phrase.

"Unstrap yourself and we'll make for the edge of the bowl."

…

Drake was mystified by the dart with its nose ploughed into the chocolate bowl. Above the ant sized figure in a sea of N&Ns, Drake lifted the paper dart from the bowl and studied it. He wondered where it had come from and the purpose of the three postage stamps and three staples.

"Gos?" he looked up at the stairs. "_Nah_." He decided the dart had been present the whole time. Blown off some perch upon the Crimebot's dramatic entrance.

Between work, Gosalyn and Crimebots a duck needed to lay back and release the stress. He popped the headphones back on and reached for a handful of chocolate delights.

…

"As the new leader of this expedition I expect total respect of the respect you should respect me because I'm in command. No exceptions. And no name calling. That's just rude. You are absolutely not to call me shorty or Steve Urkel or Martian…."

"We never called you Martian!" Thinking it was another matter.

"_Nyah-ah-ah_, quiet. I'm the leader, I say when you talk. I get to make my inspirational speech."

Honker was lead across the rainbow landscape by Gosalyn's guiding hand. Her grip tensed. Honker sensed Gosalyn did have an exception to the Martian man's rules. He reached for the blur that was his friend and placed a soothing hand on what he took to be her elbow. He said, "Maybe it would be easier if we let him think he's in control."

"Honk. That's my knee."

"As my first order as leader I am of the opinion we should **– run**! _Running, running, running, running_…."

The surface of the rainbow shock with unparalleled violence. It was impossible to remain standing. The disks they trekked upon shifted. Some skipped over their heads. Those beneath their feet slid backward and threatened to fall into the depths of the N&N ocean. Behind them great pillars were forced into the N&N ocean and flexed. Closing a fist around disks and taking them back for the sky creature's pleasure. Honker was reminded the gods of Mt Olympus taking the delights they wish and the wrath mortals faced as they took pleasure without personal consequence.

Gos pulled Honker toward the light. They had been buried under the top layer of disks. They were fortunate not to be deeper.

"_Go, go! Go Honk_!"

One mouthful of chocolate, no matter what self-discipline you tell yourself you have, is _never_ enough.

"_He's coming back_!"

Lilliput was out ahead by the head start he gained by being the first to see the hand. He avoided the worst of the first impact. Now he reached the edge of the bowl and looked back. The kids could never make it. He was on his own. A prospect not at all comforting when you were Lilliput's size.

"Come on!"

Being taken by the giant hand was a less comforting prospect. So as it came again and closed its great finger around the desperate children he knew alone was a concept he could handle. It was time to depart.

The edge of the bowl was high from the surface. He could never survive the drop. But wait! Not far from the bowl rested a glass of lemonade Drake had poured from Lilliput's oversized bottle. A wine glass, the rest Lilliput had left unwashed. The rim of the glass was below him now. He might just be able to make it. If the screams of the children behind him convinced him of anything it was that he could make it. He had to make it. It would be better not to make it then stay here.

The falling sensation twisted his stomach in a knot. Butterflies in your stomach were for anxious people but the tickle he experience the acceleration of gravity rearranged his squishy organs to the top of his gut he could believe in butterflies. Lilliput cleared the rim of the glass and struck glass edge as it curved in an oval shape. His back suffered a friction burn skidding down the glass. Then cool relief. He made a splash in the lemonade any inattentive observer could interpret as a bubble come to the surface.

"How do I get out of here?" Too late he realised the tall, slippery sides of the glass made for an impassable obstacle.

…

Gosalyn threw herself over Honk as the shadow enclosed around them. The giant, being hungry for chocolate, had them in his grasp. He was eager to feed. It was small consolation to Honker the being was only to eat them by accident as he contemplated the digestive system.

Gosalyn failed biology. She had little conception of what awaited them nor cared. Because it was not going to happen.

"Bite him! Like a bug!" and she feel to her knees to chew on her father's palm feathers to set an example.

_We're too small. Without sharp teeth or toxins_, Honker's mind reasoned.

They approached Drake's mouth. _No time!_

"Hold on!"

Drake deposited _half_ of his handful of N&N's into his mouth and crunched them into fine shards of candy and chocolate melted by his warm salvia. The delicious mix his tongue lapped at. Licked it from the inside of his teeth.

The children were momentary spared this fate. Clinging to Drakes feathers. They did not have long. Drake would intake the remaining candy in moments.

Honker reached into his pockets. "I have a magnifying glass!"

"You have a magnifying glass!" Gosalyn echoed. She failed to see how a magnifying glass could offer them any help now.

Honker passed it to her. "Break it!" Gosalyn did so without question. Smashing the glass with the heel of her sneakers.

"Take the largest, sharpest chunk and stab between the fingers."

Gosalyn stabbed at the vulnerable flesh between Drakes fingers but her father remained oblivious to the attack. They were too small.

"Now pour this in!" Honker passed her a bottle of his lens cleaner. Without his glasses he did not need these now. It would serve a higher cause.

An ant bite or bee sting is too small for creatures of size to notice. Add an injection of toxin into the mix and even the smallest creature can become a serious irritant. Or worse. The addition of a chemical to the wound Gosalyn already had opened caught Drake's attention. The sudden burning sensation jolted him.

"_Yah_! What was that?" and he shock the offending limb violently to ward off attack.

_Not my best plan,_ Honker considered as he and Gosalyn were thrown airborne once again.

…

Ick. Gosalyn pulled her head out of melted dipping cheese. She was going to need a bath after this adventure. It was all though her hair. She had not the vanity of other girls but there were some things you do not do to a girl's hair. Maybe she had just invented a new shampoo. Cheese extract.

"_Gos_!"

"Honker?"

Helpless and now separated from his only protection. It suddenly and terrifyingly occurred to Gosalyn Honker was not beside her. Gosalyn set aside her worries at once and picked herself up. He was not in immediate view.

"_Honk_!"

"_Gos_!"

The cry was faint. The violence with which they were thrown Honker could have landed anywhere. He may not even have fallen on the table. And if he did there were not many soft surfaces to land on.

She pulled herself out of the gooey cheese on to half a cracker which had broken off in the dip. A raft upon which to stand. Honk wasn't as far away as the cry indicated. She found spotted him by following the pained groaning.

He was fortunate. He landed on a sandwich. The spongy bread absorbing his impact. Where he was not fortunate, that the bread was wholemeal, blasted health conscious dad, and he hit his wrist badly on a solid seed. His wing was hurting bad. Perhaps broken. It looked agonising.

"You have the worst luck of any bird."

She could not do anything for him. Maybe if they found a shard of ice from Drake's lemonade they could reduce the swelling. Otherwise they were too small to apply medicine even if they could reach it. An aspirin was bigger than he was. She could make a sling from her school uniform shirt and wear the itchy vest. That she could do. She hated the uniform and the stupid school for, "spirited," children so there was no loss.

"Where's Lilliput?"

"We got separated after crashing in the N&N bowl," Gosalyn said. "We're going to have to hope he makes his way to us or find him after we're big again. We need to write a message for dad, pronto."

"An S.O.S? If you can write an S.O.S on the coffee table your dad is sure to get some idea of what happened."

"That we were shrunk?"

"Or we were turned invisible. He'll know we're in trouble and we're still in the room. It's our best bet."

…

Is the glass half full or half empty? Either way Lilliput was totally in the #$%! Swimming in fizzy lemonade sounds like a dream. Until you are swimming in lemonade. With no way to scale the frictionless sides. Knowing if the giant who eclipses the outer edge of the bowl is anything like you he likes to wash down chocolate N&Ns with a gulp of fizzy.

Imagine the inconvenience then when his cell phone rang. As if he did not have enough to deal with right now! Sure, technically he had nothing _to do_ but float here. It was still an irritation.

He removed the phone from his pants pocket, lifted it up to his face and hit the accept call button.

"No. No, I'm happy with my deal. No, I don't have time for a survey right now. I'm drowning in lemonade, what do you think? Alright, thank you. Goodbye."

"Blasted telemarketers."

…

Drake returned to the living room rubbing cream into his ant bite. He hoped he wasn't allergic. He was fairly certain he wasn't. He would have to call the Quackwerks exterminator bots tomorrow because he would not take the chance Gosalyn was.

The cordless phone began ringing and he scooped it up on the way to the couch. He flopped onto the cushions and answered, "Drake Mallard. Ahoy-hoy!"

"Ahoy-hoy! Oh, thank goodness! Thank goodness for you! Listen Mr Mallard, you have to save me!"

"This sounds like a request you should be making to the Crimebots."

"You don't understand. I'm closer than you realise. Look, earlier today I came around your place…"

"Yeah?" Drake was only semi-interested. He took a casual sip of lemonade.

"No! _Noooooo_…!"

_beep beep beep_

Drake frowned as the line went dead. "Huh. Guess he hung up," he replaced the phone and re-inserted the headphones.

…

Honker was in no condition to help, blind and now injured. The plan had to be carried out. A message to Drake had to written but Honk could not be left alone in this dangerous environment. Ants still snuck about retrieving tasty treats. Drake still munched on snacks. The edge was an in-survivable drop. One false step, you've become a prime example of why Ducks don't fly. Gos found a spot where he might to sit tight. The base of a T.V. guide magazine. It formed a wall to put his back against. Minimal shelter and the comforting knowledge danger he would be in his face. Not his back.

Unless an ant got the drop on him from above. Gos would have to keep one eye on him as she worked. Drake too _may_ be inclined to consult the guide. He appeared satisfied tapping his toe in time to Gosalyn's music.

Her great S.O.S. was to be constructed of food items. The only resource in abundance although she was too small to shift the majority. A fallen slice of cucumber from a sandwich formed the centre of her message. If she built the twin S's of S.O.S either side she reasoned her work load would be cut by a third. The first S she collected fallen bits of lettuce from a burger or fried onion pieces (they still make your eyes water at no matter your size), ham pieces. Assorted vegetables scraps you pick off your pizza. Anything she could move.

Useable resources dwindled by time she began the second S. She opted to use the runny material. Dipping cheese, drops of tomato sauce or mustard. Turning to lettuce again, forming a scoop to transport the material. Streaking it across the glass surface. Sounds easy. Still, it was a time consuming process. Collection, transport, dabbing it on. Spreading it on thick enough to be spotted. Casual check-ups on Honker, ensuring her friend was safe and lifting his spirits with the reassurance she had been squished by a falling candy or walked off the table edge. A neighbourly yell at intervals. Later, a drained, unenthusiastic yell nearing the end of her task.

…

"_Dig through the ditches, _

_And burn through the witches._

_I slam in the back of my _

_Dragu…."_

Click.

Next track selection. A pathetic "evil" laugh kicks off the guitar and drums.

"_Devon, won't go to heaven_

_She's just another lost soul..."_

Click.

"Next."

Wild beating on drums. A long introduction. Drake fast forwarded the track….

"_Broken, your servant I kneel._

_(Will you give in to me?)_

_It seems what's left of my human side, _

_Is slowly changing in me."_

No matter which track he selected it all blasted noise in his eardrums. "No wonder Gosalyn never listens to me. She must be deaf from all this trash."

He gave the playlist another few flicks. "Does this girl have anything sweet?"

"_When I was younger I saw my daddy cry, _

_And curse at the wind._

_He broke his own heart, _

_And I watched, _

_As he tried to reassemble it."_

"Paramore…?" Drake was amused. "Score! Little birdy told me she'd be hung by her hockey laces before touching anything associated with the Twilight craze."

Seeing the news, Drake finally removed Gosalyn's I-Pod and sat up. Gave his eyes a rub and turned up the volume on the remote. For Drake, the news represents a show with intellectual merit. As opposed to mid-afternoon, brain curdling junk.

"_Welcome to the Quackwerks News Hour. Tonight's top story, a peeking duck has been picked up by the Quackwerk's Protective Task Squad outside the hotel room of song star, Catty Perry_."

In saying that, the news had taken a dive of late. Since the Quackwerks takeover of the city life had become dainty and idyllic. No crime. No economic downturn. A population reduced to employee zombies. St Canard had become so boring celebrity gossip passed as news. Sport, Quackwerks sponsored every winning sports team. Weather – Quackwerks could not control the weather yet but give them time. They only existed as a corporate entity for less than a year. Anything Quackwerks did not control seemed to cause the entity offence and it moved to rectify the situation.

As the headlines rolled on, Drake mulled over how long it was taking the crimebots to find Gosalyn and Honker.

"I hope the kids aren't in any trouble. The crimebots are usually so efficient. I'd have thought they'd have found her by now. Unless they're holding her on trumped up jaywalking charges. Stupid bots, I should call and ask."

He would do just that. Ring Quackwerks Security again and see if they picked up a spirited young girl and a nerdy kid. They'd know if they had them, there was no mistaking the pair. If not…. Was he prepared to take more drastic action? They'd only been gone for an hour, leaving this trash heap behind. He had no verifiable reason to feel they were in trouble.

The "incident" with Negaduck sure had left Drake jumpy concerning Gosalyn's safety. If Darkwing's most dangerous foe could unravel the secrets behind the mask….

He should not have anything to fear. He had given up that lifestyle. For good. For Gosalyn's sake.

He would give Security another call. There were no bylaws yet for being a concerned parent. After he made the call he would take action - against this pig sty! He wanted Gosalyn to clean as punishment but it would sit here forever. One scan of the room and the Crimebot returning his wayward child might decide Gos would be better off in a foster home. Drake stacked empty plates and threw leftovers in the pizza boxes on. Only the candy he kept.

He worked to clear his living room table when a certain mess caught his eye….

…

"Maybe we should set a camp fire. In addition to the message.

"Like Lord of the Flies. Too bad I lost my glasses."

"Rub pieces of celery together."

The friends waited for Drake to see their message, and understand, and it was becoming aggravating. By Honker's estimation they had been small more than near of over two hours! They'd defied gravity and a hungry maw. Lost their companion, never mind how nasty the little man was. Honk's wrist was injured. Gosalyn was secretly worried due to its swelling. The experience was trying them but so long as they leaned on each other and kept their spirits high they would see it through. Together.

"He's singing Paramore."

"_You are the only exception_…."

"Badly."

"Oh no. That's all I need."

"Not the end of the world to like Twilight. It'd the only common ground you have with every other girl in school."

"I like _scary _vampire movies! Vampires are not pretty boys with sparkling silver skin!"

"But you wouldn't mind a vampire boyfriend."

"_Gross_! _Although,_ a step up from the slobbering, mangy, stupid, poachers which pass for boys at my new school. Half of them can't even throw a proper curveball. My pen stopped working. I asked one boy, Mort, who sits behind me in biology, if I could borrow a pen. He must be a super villain. He had that panicked stare dad's foe's used to get when they realise Darkwing has evaded their traps and is holding his gas gun to their - look, Dad's starting to pay attention."

"Is he looking down?"

Drake muttered something about crimbot's and giving them a call. But he began to clear plates.

"Will he see it?" Honker asked.

"He's Darkwing Duck! His skills of observation skills are unparalleled!"

"He's not Darkwing anymore. And his observational skills were so honed it was incredible what he didn't notice."

Gosalyn swallowed the urge to defend her dad. This was Honker. A true believer in Darkwing Duck. And – there was no reason to argue shrink rays are impossible when you are an inch tall, if you take my meaning.

Drakes gaze rested on the message and held. He was peering straight down on it. Frowning he thought.

"Honk! Honk, I think this is it!"

"Oh, man," Drake exclaimed. "Oh, man. I need to wipe down this table! It's filthy!"

He took the collection of empty plates into the kitchen.

Gosalyn raged! "I remember being adopted by _Darkwing Duck_, master detective! Not _Drake_, lonely house-dad!"

"He comes back with a damp cloth, we should, maybe, not be here."

"Where else can we go?" Gosalyn was never inclined to give up but the message had been the final rabbit in her hat.

"I don't know. I guess we should try reach a phone and send a text message. Or a computer. Send an e-mail."

"Honk! The computer isn't in the corner! That means it shrunk!"

"Could work…. How do we get to it?"

Both children looked around for a means of transportation. They needed to leave quickly before Drake returned with his sterilising agents for cleaning the table top. There was no obvious escape, though, there was the unusual. Honker's fuzzed vision drew to a strange blob underneath where a dinner plate had lain. Was it a slug? Or a booger?

Or – was it a lump of used, giant bubble gum left behind by the (missing) arch villain, Lilliput?


	7. Indigestion

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

* * *

What Honker had in mind for the booger/slug/chewing gum was insane. Crazy in the extreme. Desperate. The kind of plan Gosalyn would coin. He had no trouble convincing her it would work.

They weren't swimming in options. They had as long as it took Drake to gather some standard cleaning materials from under the sink. No time at all.

"Honk, this is the most brilliantly disgusting idea you've ever devised! I knew you could think of something."

"It's a disgusting idea to be sure. But whether this balloon can hold maintain enough lift to safety transport us both safely across…."

Gosalyn commanded, "Less talk, more blow."

They worked to form a bubble, sizable enough to carry each of them to the surface, where they began this adventure, by blowing into the lump of used bubble gum. Desperate to form a large enough vessel _before_ Mr Mallard returned, their plan was to reach the corner previous occupied by Mr Mallard's computer, conspicuously no longer present after the scuffle with Lilliput and his shrink ray. For the purposes of sending an phone-mail to Gosalyn's concerned father. That is, if the balloon did not pop while forming or fail to hold their weight leading them to plummet from the coffee table to splats-ville were their bodies would never be recovered in the carpet jungle below. Or should they fail to create the balloon in time and Drake sweeps them up and washes them down the drain.

"There," Gosalyn pronounced. "This bubble is large enough." It was twice their height.

No a moment too soon as, "Dad's coming back!"

Drake was coming back. Carrying a bucket. In that bucket was hot, soapy water, a brush. He held disinfectant wipes under his arm, and yellow rubber gloves to protect his wings. And he wore a shower cap.

Extreme cleaning.

"We need to leave now!" Gosalyn concluded. "How do we get in this thing?"

Good question. To try and squeeze through the bubble wall may cause it to pop. Honker realised they should have blown up the bubble from inside the gum.

Sensing Honker's hesitation, Gosalyn amended his plan as originally sketched to her.

"It's sticky and still fresh. Jump!" She shoved honker into the bubble wall. He could feel the saliva and rubber substance against his feathers. It was horrible enough pressing his beak to the substance in an effort to expand the bubble. This - it was having a big dog jump up to greet you with a dog kiss after witnessing said dog cleaning itself. Honk had scarcely adjusted to the nauseating artificial strawberry floured stench. His revulsion, besides his lunch, returned to plague him. He held a fearful mental image he was being absorbed into the wall of the bubble. It was pulling at him. He was becoming part of it.

Then the world began to spin. He wondered if the spinning was due to his nausea or his nausea due to the spinning?

…

Gosalyn rolled the bubble into position on the edge of the table. Dad, by whatever merciful luck she retained, hadn't spotted the rolling bubble. He replaced Gosalyn's I-pod over his ears, continued to sing along to Paramore, destroying their rhythms - he was a sprayer. Stretching the rubber cleaning gloves on perfectly as if a surgeon. It, the bubble, needed a last shove for it to tumble over to either float or plummet. Gosalyn knew her best chance was to be aboard for any eventuality.

Gos stepped back. Braced.

She revelled in it. Savoured the adventure missing from her life since Darkwing had become Drake Mallard full time.

"I haven't had much occasion to say this lately. _**KEEN GEAR**_!"

Go!

Gosalyn sprinted at the bubble. Leapt high and allowed physics to finish the job. Her momentum toppled the bubble sitting on the edge. For milliseconds she feared she hadn't stuck but as it spun in mid-air so she was below and on top and below. She felt the slimy tendrils of the bubble resist gravity to keep her close.

The bubble rolled ferociously. It dropped. It faltered. It went down. Not like a stone, as was their biggest fear. Like a Dandelion seed ripped from its perch from by the gentle breath of a child.

The bubble would not float under their weight yet they were reasonably safe on the exterior. As safe as any other activity today. They experienced a relaxed decent (the spinning was not relaxing). The landing might be rough and they would have to walk most of the distance. "Any landing you could walk away from…," Launchpad would say. This plan could have gone worse.

_In a turn of fortune, the bubble maintained its lift for most of the distance across the room. Leaving them with a brief walk through the carpet jungle to salvation and rescue._

_Yeah right!_

Drake's new air conditioner, his improperly restored door, curtsey of an impolite crimebot, remained. The same hole which disrupted their previous flying experiment with buffeting gusts.

The currents caught a new plaything. Raised it upon a gentle updraft. Caused it to turn end over end. The children in the grasp of the winds of fate.

…

"Experience true terror dastardly dust bunnies. I am – Dusting Duck!"

Most menial tasks in life are easier when entertainment value or danger is introduced. Case in point, Darkwing's breakfast breaker course. His favourite training exercise and a hearty meal in under thirty seconds.

Or was. Until Gosalyn undercut his best time. As a responsible parent he was forced to dismantle the exercise for being too dangerous. Children are curious beings and will go the way of the cat. The nearly extinct ones.

Drake struck a dramatic pose, levelling his duster at the table and thrust. "Ha-ha! Dusting Duck deals to the debris deserted by the departed dumper of trash. Lingering litter shall be lucky to elude... Eh."

He trailed off mid-alliteration. Not solely for the lack of letters launched with an L. It was the breakfast challenge and Gosalyn. She had invaded his train of thought, now he considered again the temptation of scouring the city looking for her. As Drake? Or Darkwing?

He'd have thought for sure the Crimebots would have returned her by now. They were supposed to call if they were holding her for interrogation on trumped up jaywalking charges. There were rumblings they were increasingly failing to perform this and basic procedures. Who were accused villains or their parents supposed to complain to? Quackwerks enforced the law, Quackwerks _is_ the law.

On the other hand, she had only been gone a hour that he knew of. Still he suffered a black hole of concern in his chest whenever Gosalyn was not within his sight or not within an expected area like school. Blame his overprotectiveness if you must, or her impetuousness but his life since adopting his little angel had been all consuming worry, 25/8. Thirteen months a year!

Besides. He needed an audience for his clowning. Otherwise, he was wasting his second rate cleaning material.

…

_Thud!_ The bubble made contact with a solid object. It's thin walls shock violently and it momentarily lost that spherical shape to become an oval as half the bubble stuck to the object and half continued to travel. They could hear the lining under intense strain. A rubber band stretched to breaking point. These bubble walls made a sheet of newspaper look thick. Each child feared the bubble would tear apart. Explode into the goo from which it was formed.

Amazing elasticity properties kept the bubble intact. It strained – and reformed. A sphere once more.

A sphere with two more large, white spheres with iris staring down on it. Twin eyes fixated on the tip of a beak and the pink transport sitting upon it.

Drake shock his head, dislodging the bubble from his beak. "What in the world….?"

Where had it come from? It seemed to orbit his head. Drake attacked with an awkward backhand, shooing it away as he would an annoying insect. Whereas an insect may sting in retaliation the bubble too had means to punish insolence. The bubble avoided the ducks feeble sweeps then the sudden in the air pressure maintain its buoyancy sent the bubble on a new course, spinning out of control.

"_Not the carpet_!"

Drake dove, belly flopped, in defence of his carpet. Intending to take the pink bullet himself. Clothing could be replaced. Sticky feathers pulled. Carpets where forever (on his salary).

He got beneath it. Reached. The bubbles erratic movement foiled him. It looped around his palms. Evaded Drake. It had a destiny. It's destiny was with the carpet.

Stuck.

Bounced.

The duck gritted his beak.

Bounce.

Pursed lips. Withheld his breath….

….

"We stopped moving. We're on the ground…?"

Gosalyn grinned from ear to ear. "Yep. We made it."

Three bounces on Drakes precious carpet and the bubble lost motion. The children had their feet on solid ground, or soon would. Their second successful flight today. Gosalyn was willing to bet even Launchpad had never flown a paper dart or a gum bubble. She could well be a successful pilot herself one day. Pilot/champion of justice.

"I can't seem to….," Honk struggled, "The bubble has me trapped."

"No problem."

Sticky situations such as these where the reason for teeth.

….

Pop.

Pop went the bubble of hope inside a mild mannered suburban father. He buried his beak in the carpet, momentarily overwhelmed by the gloominess of his existence. Former Duck Defender from dusk to dawn, removing gum from his carpet this night.

…

Covered from top feathers to waddling feet in a purple, pinkish slobbery, rubbery slime – Gosalyn's feelings opposed her fathers. True, she was not pleased by the idea Dad was going to have to pluck each of her feathers to clean this gum, and the cheese before it, off. A mess worse than she reminisced her short stint as _Yucky Duck_, slobbering nuisance for sinners.

This adventure was filling a cavity in her life. A cavity the shape and size of Negaduck, riding a deathbot. Created when he tore down the outer wall to the Mallard family breakfast table shortly before being apprehended by new Quackwerks Crimebots as a hapless Drake could do nothing. Totally at Negaduck's mercy, and that is no mercy at all. The retirement of Darkwing Duck followed. A life of heroism may be easy for Drake to turn down but in doing so he was not just making the decision solely for himself. It impacted every member of Gosalyn's family. Launchpad was sent away least other villains think to follow him home. If Darkwing no longer existed, he could not date the witch, Morgana Macawber, who packed up and left St Canard soon after the break up. Gosalyn knew from experience you cannot let family go for any reason, not that Dad would listen. Now Gosalyn receives a fine education from an expensive academy for "spirited" children where she does not have even Honker to ease the torture that is school.

If only Darkwing would come back and save her. Her dark knight and protector who makes everything right.

Pained groans from Honker. He may have landed badly and she was reminded of her friend's wing hurt. He was suffering in silence. A real trooper. If this adventure were different to others it was in she had a real responsibility to rescue her friend. For his sake, Gosalyn knew this adventure could not end quick enough.

"Let's go to the computer," she advised.

…

Escaping the exploded bubble was like crawling out of quicksand. Once it takes hold it doesn't want to let go. Each of them lost a shoe to the suction. The last hike to their destination was dreary. The bubble had taken them a long way but had not landed them close. At best the walk was uneventful. Each little adventurer could be thankful for that.

Finding the equipment within the carpet jungle proved more frustrating than Gosalyn imagined. The carpet fibres were not so much taller than they were but, seeing as how they were unable to gaze over the top of the tangled mess, it was tall enough to be a hindrance. Gosalyn attributed her finding the equipment they searched for to stumbling luck and a stubbed toe over Honker's grid search pattern. She was glad to collapse onto a carpet fibre and let her friend take over the operation.

Honk tapped the keyboard. "The computer doesn't seem to be responding."

"What's wrong now?" Gosalyn decried to the heavens.

"Statistically speaking the number one cause of computer failure in America…," Honker looked under the desk, "it's not plugged in."

_Sigh_. Gosalyn joined him under the desk. Sure enough, the plug was in no way attached to the wall. It had shrunk with the computer when the wall socket had not.

"I don't like our chances of finding a power point the size of sand grain," Honker observed. "May as well be a Japanese wall socket." He was seldom anything but logic and cold numbers. No wonder his ill-timed sense of humour sucked.

Gosalyn allowed her legs to buckle. She sat upon the ground. Seriously considering the notion she was beaten. Of course Gosalyn would never give up so long as her friend needed help but she had no next move. Resting here was as good an option as she had on the cards.

"So. That's that. Foiled for lack of an adaptor."

Honker settled next to her. This adventure in the land of the small had been long and tiresome. The thought of never being big again was scary but the fear was overcome by a weariness which made his bones heavy.

"So. What do we do now genius?"

"You're dad's Darkwing spyglass has enough magnification to see us. We could stand in front of it."

"Start a fire and send smoke signals," Gosalyn counter-suggested.

"Rewire the stereo to amplify our voices."

"Train the ants to bite dad in Morse code.

"Run the computer off potato generated electricity. We'll think of something," Honker assured her. "We'll get a message through. When you're dad realises we aren't spreading havoc around town, pawning his stuff, he'll quickly piece the clues together."

…

Drake scrubbed at the gum in his carpet vigorously, "What dissolves bubble gum? Was it vinegar? Caustic soda? _I can't remember_!" when he had another knock to his door. The mind boggling puzzle of gum removal took a back seat. Momentary, there and gone, hope it may be Gosalyn ended thinking she would have charged in, attempt to clear Drake and enter her sanctuary room before he could lecture her. No, another Crimebot. The same model as before, his violent knocking collapsing his door once again. Its massive outline filling the doorway.

Not typically a welcome sight and it _still_ did not have Gosalyn. It was good enough to extend an arm and pick the door. A small curtsey for a citizen it strove to protect. Better wiring in this one, Drake could tell.

"Good evening, citizen. Be advised, citizen, a dangerous criminal is believed to be present in the area. Emergency warrant has been posted for this individual on charges of breaking bail conditions. Have you seen this person, citizen?"

"That's Lilli… lil… looks like the former gooney-golf operator!" Drake caught his recognition of the character. He was a family man. A single father. And had kept his beak out of the business of criminal individuals for some time now.

"Phone records indicate his cell called this household 34 standard minutes ago. Citizen, do you know the whereabouts of Mr Horatio Urwin Lilliput?"

"His parents must have held a grudge against him," Drake mumbled. "I haven't gotten any calls. Aside from some crank asking me to _save_ him."

The bot computed this information. Concluding, "Citizen, I require you to accompany me to Quackwerks plaza for further questioning."

"Now wait a minute!" Drake was appalled at the miscarriage of justice when you replaced good, honest cops with metalmind clunkers. "My daughter is still missing and I demand to know why you're here - harassing _me!_ - when you should be out on the street doing your job!"

"Sir!" he added. It wouldn't do to forget the curtsey rules in dealing with Crimebots now.

"Identity of missing person?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please name missing person."

"I told you already!" Dealing with these dump bots could be infuriating! "Gosalyn Mallard! Honker Muddlefoot…!"

"Mallard, Gosalyn, located. Muddlefoot, Honker, located."

"What do you mean located? Where?"

The droid pointed. "There."

Drake spun. No one. Hope for Drake rose and fell.

"There's no one there."

"There," the droid insisted.

"I told you already, there is no one there! You're malfunctioning."

"Initiating self-diagnostic. Functioning normal. Sir, you are hereby charged with wasting Quackwerks time in filing a false missing persons report."

"WHAT! It's not a false report, you haven't found the yet…."

"_There_." For an emotionless robot with a monotone voice, these things could convey annoyance.

"… you just keep pointing at a spot on the carpet like they're invisible or too small for the eye to…. Did you say _Lilliput_? Lilliput has been seen in this area?"

Inside the detectives mind of Darkwing Duck: Click.

Lilliput. Missing furniture. Toy ray gun.

The machine informed Drake, "You are to be detained."

Drake resisted but the bot's hold on his collar was too strong. He could not resist it metallic might.

"Sir, resisting arrest is a crime."

"Gosalyn! I be back Gosalyn! I'll call Mrs Muddlefoot from jail and explain! Just. Hold. Onnnnnnnnn…."

His last words were drowned out by the Crimebot blasting into the sky trailed by the prisoner in his arms.

…

His raft jolted on the choppy lake. Something on the outside had caused a disturbance. Drake must be active.

Lilliput sat upon a raft a chewed up ball of who knows what, clumped together with another ball of I don't want to know. Floating on a sea of stomach acid in the dark. The light from his cell phone the only source of light in this hell.

But not for long. Lilliput had a plot.

"Mwh-ha-ha! Once I rub these carrot sticks into a fire the smoke with force Mallard to throw up and I'll be free! Free to complete my revenge! What is that…?"

A tiny glob of that is nasty floated by. Hesitant, reaching and pulling back. Reaching. Lilliput plucked it from the lake.

Examined the floating refuge.

Sniffed his find.

Tasted an strand.

"Mmm, chicken."

The dark was inflicted with a sudden rumbling. The waters of the lake grew more violent. Lilliput a reflection from the windpipes above.

"_Gosalyn! I be back Gosalyn! I'll call Mrs Muddlefoot from jail and explain! Just. Hold. Onnnnnnnnn…."_

Sudden acceleration on the outside and Drakes rocketed to his feet. The lake of acid rose like a tidal wave to envelop everything. Lilliput was swept along from his raft.

"Ah, it _burns_! _What a world, what a world!_ To die a roast duck, what sick mind would have thunk it?"

…

**The Next Morning.**

Quackwerks had given Drake a rough night, not least due to concern over Gosalyn's disappearance. On mention of Lilliput he recalled a case where entire banks would disappear, leaving only their underground plumbing behind. Blink and you would miss it. Darkwing had solved the case blithely stumbling on to the culprit during a family game of mini-golf. Now he had a good idea who was behind the disappearance of the kids and where he might find them only to spend an anxious night behind bars!

"Forcing me to recite the entire Swahili dictionary? They kept me all night and didn't even ask me any questions! And that voice…. Sounded familiar."

Fortunate for he, Quackwerks never seriously considered the notion Drake was responsible for any wrongdoing. If anything, they were out to spoil his evening. Treating him to what ranked as one of the weirdest nights of his life and letting him go early next morning.

Inexplicable, even barmy, actions by Quackwerks were not his concern. Arriving home, Drake recovered the remainder of detective equipment from his days as Darkwing Dark, Terror of the Night. His preclusion to throwing away his most useful gear could prove the salvation of the kids. His microscopic-spectrometer magnifying glasses were capable of revealing the heat signature of an insect under topsoil. He feared to tread on the carpet. Feared the incalculable damage he may, in ignorance, have already done. Painstakingly, he erected a pulley system from the support framing in the ceiling. Additional ropes and pulleys bolted to wall studs until his living room was an obstacle course of ropes running back and forth and he had created a crude crane contraption which could support his weight and manoeuvre him to any grid section of carpet. Without placing a webbed foot down.

Cold, lifeless objects were harder to spot but beginning his search grid in the back corner he soon uncovered his missing book case, miniaturised. A novel find and the first indication his theory was correct. He continued the search with Lilliput's Shrink Ray, or what he assumed to be Lilliput's shrink ray which he mistook for a toy ray gun the previous evening, slung across his back.

…

With Drake suspended above, the missing children acted to bring hide and seek to a close sooner. It had been a cold, hard night sleeping on the floor, wrapping tubular strands of carpet fibre across them for a blanket. They were not keen to remain shrunk for another.

"Rub harder. I want this signal fire going before dad sweeps this corner."

"Are you sure sparking a fire is a good idea? What if your dad attempts to stomp it out?"

Gosalyn laid down a pair of carpet fibre strands she'd been rubbing to generate friction heat. "Well if you still had your glasses I'd reflect light into his eyes."

"How about the computer screen?"

"Step aside Honker. Dad's computer is about to have an accident."


	8. Epilogue

Author's Note: Once again, acknowledgement to Mentoria for her inspiration and input. And for putting up with me.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event associated with that said show.**

* * *

Epilogue

Carefully, so carefully, Drake manoeuvred a straw toward the children embedded in the carpet. Millimetre by millimetre. To steady his actions, Drake held the straw with both hands. His microscopic magnifying glass had an adjustable harness with which he may lash it to his head and free up a hand.

Force with which a creature his size could thrust the straw may cause harm to one so tiny so caution was the order of the day. After a night suffering cruel and unusual torture in the Quackwerks cells, but foremost consumed by thoughts of terrible woe for his Gosalyn and her sweet and kind Muddlefoot friend, Honker, Drake would take no chances.

With the magnification glass over one eye and the other closed, Drake was in a state of tunnel vision. Comparable to a top down video game where a minor twitch in his arm moved the mouse a great deal.

The straw on the doorstep to their jungle hideaway, Drake set it down and asked the children to, "hop in." This he did gently. A whisper on the wind. With such little ear drums he refrained from speaking in normal tones with his beak so close to the ground.

Drake observed as Gosalyn aided Honker climb the carpet fibres and into the red and white stripy tube. He was glad to have Gosalyn help her less able friend but had he known the full story of Honkers injuries and inability to see he would have been touched and proud of her loyalty and protectiveness. The glasses were not set properly to realise such detail. In actuality they were at their lowest setting possible, giving Drake a larger view of a square of carpet during his search and a better view of his movements in relation to the children now.

Gosalyn gave a wave and disappeared after Honker into the straw. They were ready.

"Hold on," Drake said.

From the straw, Drake moved the kids to a tea saucer.

The plate he set in the centre of the living room after shifting the furniture. Room enough for the kids to grow.

Drake stood back, collecting the shrink gun and lined it up carefully.

Already he had experimented with other shrunken objects he'd found in his carpet. An N&N – exploded. He reviewed the settings. His computer – grew lopsided. One half larger than the other. He tinkered with the focusing lens. A series of trial and error that left his coffee table shrunk, his book case melted and a giant ant chasing him from his residence temporarily.

On the plus side he managed to score a big screen TV. But the picture was lousy.

"Stand up straight and slightly apart. I don't won't your atoms to fuse together. It's time to turnaround this tallness impairment imposed by Lilliput."

…

The shrink ray glow surrounded the tea saucer. It, and everyone standing on it, began to grow rapidly.

Drake dove into the kitchen. The side of the saucer impacted against the inner wall and made the house tremble.

Knocked over the TV.

One length of the circumference took out a window. The saucer so large now in order to compensate for the decreasing space in the living room it climbed the wall, sitting at an angle. Plaster board on the walls buckled under the pressure. It was a miracle the framing held and the house remained standing. But it was a sturdy old girl, the house of Mallard. Standing up to a crime fighter's needs.

The trembling halted.

Drake ducked his beak around the corner to witness the results.

The living room was destroyed. A giant saucer

Standing in the middle of the lopsided saucer vessel were Gosalyn and Honker. Their explorations of the strange world beneath their feet ended. His daughter safe at last.

Drake clambered over the rim of the saucer and gave her a hug. He gave them both a big hug.

"You had me out of my mind with worry, kido."

"We know," Gosalyn had a knowing smirk, "we heard you. Thanks for figuring it out. With a little helpful prodding."

There was much more Drake wanted to say. More than he had words to form. Gosalyn meant everything to him. Did she know that? It seemed impossible to find the words to put across the depth of his caring or the terror he experienced in the night. Perhaps his actions were to be his words. Gosalyn was not a fan of his decision to pursue a normal life of Quackwerks. One day she could understand he made the decision for her. So there would be no more days like this.

No more dark days were Negaduck cast a shadow over their doorway, turning the latch to the home Gosalyn lived in.

So little words to express too many feelings. Superseded by a priority matter. It was not Gosalyn, but Honker who was in greater need of his attention. Through the microscopic glasses, Drake had not realised the boys arm injured until his uncomfortable squirming under his hug and he realised he wore Gosalyn's shirt uniform as a tourniquet. Another item he would need to pay to replace and another reason to be a proud father.

After going through so much trouble to save Honker, surely Gosalyn would not be offended if it was he Drake carried from this ruined place and cared for? She said as much.

"Dad, careful! Honker's hurt."

Drake already had the young man in his arms. "Here. I borrowed a spare pair from your mother." From his pocket he handed over a new pair of glasses. Honker re-joined the sighted world.

"Thank you, Mr Mallard."

"We're going to the Hospital to have your wing checked. I'll call your Mom and Dad and ask them to bring a change of clothes. Then together we three can divine a definitive explanation for your disastrous disappearance. I know they spent the night looking for you.

"Gosalyn, go change then grab an armful of juice boxes and snack bars and meet us at the car. You guys must be starving."

"_Wait_!" Gosalyn remembered their erstwhile unwanted companion in the land of the small. "Lilliput is still down there!"

So that is where scheming shrinker of school children vanished. "I'll search for Lilliput. I promise. From the ground to the garage to the gullet of a passing gull. If he's still in this room I will find him." And squash him, crossed Drake's mind. Lilliput deserved no less. Fortunately, Drake was a hero. If Lilliput could be spared a gruesome fate it would be so. He could return to jail for however so long Quackwerks determined. Let it be a long sentence this time.

* * *

**One Month Later**

It had been a long day. The boss on his case. Paranoia and instinctual dislike from his cubicle partner, (or cellmate, whichever description you find more apt). Elmo Sputterspark lived up to his name, sputtered spindly tales all day. Drake could not even find the joy in finally being home, he was so bone tired. Not with the unpleasant truth, that he had to suffer through it all again tomorrow, hanging over his head.

Fumbling with his keys, he almost dropped them. Slide into the door bold mechanism. Twist. Turn the handle and push.

"Gosalyn, I'm home! Please don't have destroyed my home tonight."

Unusually warm. The heat pump was functioning. Set to maximum temperature, in the middle of a summer heat wave?

Drake took up the remote and shut the wall unit off. "_Gosalyn_! What are you up to? Those things aren't cheap to run you know!"

He was answered. Not by Gosalyn.

"_Hey there, my heart warming, heart throb_."

At the top of his stairwell, dressed to freeze hearts.

Isis Vanderchill.

In the kitchen to his left he spotted Gosalyn and Honker. Encased in solid ice.

"Oh bother."


End file.
